


Feral

by puta_bruta



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha Erik, Cousin Incest, Cubs, Feral Behavior, M/M, Momma T'Challa, Mpreg, Non-explicit birth, Omega T'Challa, One-Shot, Pregnant T'Challa, Short, daddy erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puta_bruta/pseuds/puta_bruta
Summary: When omegas become pregnant, sometimes they grow a little feral.





	Feral

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote something like this a looooong time ago but it was Merthur (Merlin x Arthur from the BBC show Merlin). And in it, it was the alpha that grew protective and feral when the omega was pregnant. Though I could see Erik doing that, I wanted T'Challa to be the one that was like "touch my cubs and i'll slice u, bitch" 
> 
> So here we are!

“Well, it seems that you’re pregnant, Your Majesty.” the doctor announced. He gave a wide smile. “Congratulations, sire.”

T’Challa smiled as well from where he sat back on the examination table. He rubbed his still-flat stomach tenderly. “Praise Bast.” He was incredibly happy. Another hand found his stomach.

“We’re going to be parents, baby.” Erik said.

“I know.” T’Challa said. “I’m so happy. Are you happy?”

“Hell yeah, I am. I’mma be a daddy!”

Everything was great but then the doctor interrupted them.

“Now, a warning.” he said. “Some omegas, not all, tend to grow a little feral while they’re pregnant.”

“Feral? What do you mean?” Erik asked with a frown.

“It’s an instinct for some omegas to be protective of their unborn young. It can be quite dangerous to be around a pregnant omega. One wrong move and they’ll slice you to ribbons.” the doctor warned.

“How often those this happen with omegas?” T’Challa asked with a worried expression as he rubbed his belly.

“One out of five omegas will show this behavior, but it usually isn’t as aggressive.” the doctor said.

“Oh.” T’Challa said with relief. He turned to look at his husband. “I doubt I will be like that.”

However, as soon as there was even the tiniest showing of a bulging belly, T’Challa started acting different.

“Your Majesty! I hear you’re pregnant! Congratulations to you and the king-consort!” the leader from the River Tribe said one day after a council meeting. He was a good friend of the royal family.

“Thank you.” T’Challa said from where he was sitting on his throne. Erik was standing by his side.

The River Tribe leader reached towards the king’s small baby bump. “May I—”

T’Challa covered his stomach with both hands and turned away from the River Tribe leader’s hands. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little queasy.” he said.

The River Tribe leader looked stunned at first, but he backed away. “Of course. I understand.”

It was odd but no one said anything.

The second time there was an incident was a few days afterwards.

The seamstress had to touch him. She had to. How could she do her job and make him clothing to adjust around the small bump without touching him? She didn’t think the king would lash out her for brushing her hand against his bump while taking his new measurements.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked her with a cold tone.

The seamstress blinked in confusion. “Pardon, sire?”

T’Challa took his belly in his hands and turned away from her. “Who said you could touch my baby?”

The seamstress was still baffled, but she bowed. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It wasn’t my intention.” T’Challa softened, but then she added, “With all due respect, I can’t help but touch you when I’m taking your measurements, sire.”

T’Challa frowned. His arm snapped forward, finger pointing at the door. “Get out. Now.”

“R-right away, sire.” she said, then scurried away.

A few moments later, Erik joined his husband in the fitting room. “What’s the matter, baby? Why you scaring off everyone?” he asked, hugging him from behind. His hands slid up his stomach, caressing.

T’Challa tensed under his touch and gave a low growl, like an annoyed cat.

Erik was surprised at his behavior, but he shook it off and thought it must have been hormones. “Don’t be scaring the staff off, kitty.”

“I’m tired.” T’Challa said. He turned around and wrapped his arms around Erik’s neck. “Take me to our chambers. I wish to nap.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “So bossy.” he said, but obeyed and carried his husband off.

As the king’s belly grew, his behavior only got worst. He didn’t allow anyone to touch his stomach, not even the queen mother.

“You might hurt them.” T’Challa would say to anyone who dared to ask to touch his belly. 

The only one allowed to touch him was his husband, Erik. When they had free time, the two of them lounged together. T’Challa over his husband with his back to his chest and both of their hands joined over the king’s pregnant belly.

“Them? How do you know there’s more than one?” Erik asked on one of these occasions.

“I’m their mother.” was all T’Challa said. “Of course I know. No one has a deeper connection to them than me.”

Erik was surprised at the intensity of his tone. He almost sounded...possessive. “You’re gonna spoil the crap outta them, aren’t you?”

T’Challa huffed. “Of course not.”

“Yeah, they’re all gonna be spoiled as fuck.”

When the final trimester began, T’Challa holed himself up in the room. He didn’t allow anyone near him, except Erik, and wouldn’t go out. He would clutch to his husband and wouldn’t allow him to go anywhere. His unusual behavior worried the king-consort.

“Baby, you need to eat something.” Erik said.

“No. I don’t want to leave. It’s safe here” T’Challa replied from where his head was cushioned on Erik’s lap.

“Then let me get you something.”

“No!” T’Challa growled. He hugged his husband’s waist close, big belly resting on the bed.

Erik sighed. “All right, all right.” He called someone to bring his husband food. An attendant arrived shortly with a tray of fruit. When he got too close to the bed, T’Challa hissed at him from where he lied. The attendant hesitated.

“It’s okay. Come closer.” Erik told the young man. As an attempt to calm his husband down, he started stroking his back.

The attendant slowly neared the bed. T’Challa watched him through slits. When the attendant was close enough, he set the tray on the bed. For some reason, this alarmed the pregnant king. Maybe it was the sound of the plates rattling or maybe it was because the move was too sudden for his liking. For whatever reason, T’Challa sat up from the bed and swiped a clawed hand at the attendant with a growl.

“Bast!” the attendant squeaked. He stumbled back until he hit a wall, clutching at his heart to make sure it was still there and not between the king’s claws.

Erik quickly hugged T’Challa close to him and stroked his head gently. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

T’Challa growled lowly in his throat. He watched the attendant scurry away and didn’t relax until he was gone. He lied back against his husband and closed his eyes. He started purring deep in his throat as he was petted.

***

On the last month of T’Challa’s pregnancy, the king went full-on feral. If anyone was to enter his room, he would growl savagely. Even if it was his husband. That didn’t stop the king-consort from trying to see him, even if it meant getting scratched or hissed at.

Erik knocked on the door to their quarters. He hadn’t slept with his husband in days, and he was growing needy and a little grumpy. “Baby? It’s me.”

A low rumble emitted from the other side.

The door slid open. Erik walked inside with soft steps, careful to not startle his husband. In his hands, he had a tray of raw meat. He set the tray on the empty bed and scanned the room. Where was he?

“T’Challa?” Erik called out.

Another rumble was heard. It came from near the bed.

Erik walked around to the other side. On the floor, leaning against the bed, was his husband. He was huddled against what seemed like a bunch of blankets and quilts. He was naked as the day he was born and glaring at him. One arm was wrapped around his heaving pregnant stomach protectively. Erik was shocked at the size of it. It was huge! T’Challa was definitely carrying a large litter of cubs! 

A feeling of immense tenderness towards his husband spread all over Erik’s body at the sight of his mate. He wanted to cuddle him and nuzzle against his stomach. But if he went up to T’Challa now, he was in danger of losing a lot of blood.

T’Challa growled lowly and glared at him.

Erik took the tray of raw meat and slowly set it in front of him then backed away. T’Challa stared at him suspiciously and didn’t stop until Erik was completely out of his view. Erik left him alone to eat in peace.

***

Erik slid inside his room. It was morning and he had made it a ritual to check up on his husband every morning to make sure he was okay. T’Challa wasn’t anywhere to be seen, as usual, so Erik checked around the bed. He found T’Challa there, as usual, but this time he wasn’t hiding among the blankets.

T’Challa was sweating and huffing up a storm. He unleashed growls and hisses when he saw his husband. He tried sitting up, but he slipped on the wet floor. His face contorted in pain. Erik eyed the floor… Why was it wet?

Erik realized what was happening. T’Challa’s water had broke and now he was in labor!

“Fuck.” Erik breathed out. He didn’t want to leave his husband alone but he had to go get help immediately. He brought the doctor with him along Shuri and the queen mother.

“He may be in an extremely feral stage so we must be careful.” the doctor warned before they went inside. “We should go one by one.”

The doctor entered first, but he returned shortly, panting and sweating.

“What happened?” Erik asked.

The doctor took out a handkerchief from his pocket and started dabbing his brow. “There is no reasoning with him. I think it’s better if we let the king go through this birth alone.”

“The hell are you saying? That because you’re too much of a pussy boy my baby has to birth our cubs by himself?”

“No, sire. I just mean that the king is probably better off on his own. If we leave him be, he will most probably give birth faster and smoother without us making him nervous with our presence.”

Erik didn’t have anything to say to that. All he knew was that he wanted to be with his husband and care for him while he was in pain. However, he knew the doctor was right.

“How will we know when he’s finished?” Erik asked the doctor. “I need to see him.”

“It usually takes two to three hours for an omega to birth. Any longer than three hours and we may check on him. We’ll set up a timer.”

As they waited, Erik paced and fretted over his husband. He had never been so nervous and scared in his life. Occasionally, he would hear grunts and pants from their bedroom-turned-birthing room. He tried to barge in many times but was held back.

Then, the alarm went off quietly from the doctor’s beads as to not disturb T’Challa.

“It’s time.” the doctor said to Erik. “Go on, sire.”

Erik wasted no time and went inside their room. The scent of blood immediately hit him but he went on. T’Challa wasn’t on top of the bed, as presumed. He went around and found his husband lying back with six little puff balls on his chest. Three of them were spotted and the other half were black. Two were feeding from his nipples and the other four were mewing with their tiny eyes closed.

T’Challa’s eyes were suddenly looking right at him. They softened a bit once he realized that it was the father of his children.

“Darling.” he said. His voice was a little raspy and his eyes were a bit watery, Erik noticed.

“Hey, baby.” Erik said, voice soft.

T’Challa extended a hand towards him. “Come see our cubs.”

Erik sat on the bed and leaned over towards his husband. T’Challa pulled a jaguar cub from his nipple. Almost immediately, one of the wandering cubs on his chest latched onto one of his teats and started suckling furiously. T’Challa handed the mewling spotted cub over to Erik.

“Be gentle with him.” he said.

Erik took the little cub in his hands. He was so tiny and felt so fragile in them. The little cub started mewing frantically, sniffing around. Erik stared at his small son with wonder and love. He used the tip of his finger to stroke his tiny head.

“Have you named any of them yet?” he asked.

“No, I wanted to wait for you so you could help me.” T’Challa chuckled. “There’s quite a lot of them.”

That was an understatement. T’Challa had given birth to a full litter of cubs! Erik felt exhilarated. His mate and husband had given him such fine off-spring.

“Do you want to start naming them?” Erik asked.

“In a minute. I’m a bit tired.” T’Challa said. He snuggled into his blankets and quilts. Erik handed him the little jaguar cub back. He watched from his spot on the bed as his cubs lounged around with their stubby little paws. Then he remembered the doctor.

“I need to bring the doctor in to make sure you and the cubs are fine.” Erik said.

T’Challa growled lowly, causing the cubs to mew in distress.

Erik kissed his teeth. “Don’t give me that. He’s not going to harm you or the cubs.”

The glower didn’t leave T’Challa’s eyes.

Erik leaned over and stroked his head gently. “I’ll be with you the whole time, baby. Nothing bad will happen.”

T'Chall mulled over it a bit, then said, “Fine. Let him in.”

The doctor was allowed in. He checked on T’Challa’s and the cub’s state briskly. If he lingered too long, the king would grow suspicious and attack.

“Everyone is in good health.” the doctor announced once he was done with his check-up.

“So many babies!” Ramonda said. Her normally sharp eyes were lit up and soft around the edges. She was happy to have so many grandchildren to spoil.

“Congrats, big bro.” Shuri said with a large smile.

T’Challa’s chest was rumbling with deep purrs. “Thank you.” Pride was evident in his voice.

The next day, T’Challa was preparing to introduce all six newborn cubs. The entire event would be recorded for the first look at the little princes and princesses. Three of them were being held by T’Challa and the other three by their father. Before they made their way out to the palace’s balcony, T’Challa turned to his husband.

“Are you ready to present out cubs to the world?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Erik offered his hand to his husband. All six cubs were tucked in securely in slings. “Let’s go, baby.”

T’Challa took his hand with a smile. Both of them stepped into the balcony.

**Author's Note:**

> so a bit of bad news: So.....it might be a while until I write KillChalla again and if I do it'll prolly be short and sweet like this one....
> 
> Just wanted to let y'all know! bai


End file.
